Stay
by dnachemlia
Summary: An accident at a gruesome crime scene starts one team member's life spiraling out of control. Written for the NFA Bone Chilling Challenge.


Stay

Written for the Bone Chilling Challenge

Genre: Horror/Supernatural/Suspense

Rating: FR 15/T

Characters: Tim, Tony, Gibbs, Ducky

Spoilers: Set in season 11 (so no Ziva)

_**Disclaimer**_: All recognizable characters are the property of their respective copyright holders. No infringement intended. The original characters and places mentioned are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to those living, dead, or undead is completely coincidental. Special thanks to **thecookiemomma** for the beta

Summary: An accident at a gruesome crime scene starts one team member's life spiraling out of control.

* * *

From the outside, the building that would come to be known as the "Death House" was neither unique nor impressive. The house was old, built around 1910, with faded white siding, dark green shutters, and a slightly mossy dark green roof, similar in style to the other houses in the neighborhood. In fact, once could have walked past it at any given time and never guessed the secrets it held within.

Unfortunately for the MCRT, those secrets had been discovered by a group of curious teenagers, and since the house belonged to a Navy captain, now missing, the team had been called in to investigate.

The skies were starting to darken, a portent of an approaching storm, as the MCRT truck, followed by the M.E.'s van pulled up in front of the house. Gibbs, Tony, and Tim climbed out of the truck and gathered a few essentials before heading up the sidewalk towards the house, where they were met half-way by the local police contingent.

"This one's all yours, Gibbs," the office in charge said by way of greeting. "You're welcome to it."

"What can you tell me, O'Neal?"

O'Neal chuckled humorlessly. "I think you'll have to see this one for yourself. I've never seen anything like it in twenty years on the force."

"Great," muttered Tony before a look from Gibbs silenced him.

"Give me the short version."

O'Neal shook his head and looked past Gibbs to address Ducky and Jimmy. "You're going to need more body bags. A _lot_ more body bags."

"Sounds like Halloween showed up early this year," Jimmy replied rather cheerfully, which earned him a collective glare from the group. "Sorry."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and turned to his team. "Let's get to work."

"Yes, Boss."

The group ducked under the crime scene tape and approached the front porch, where a rather green-around-the-gills young officer stood aside to allow them to enter the dwelling.

The entrance to the interior of the house consisted of a long hallway that ended in another door, presumably to the back yard, with four other doors spaced evenly on each side, and a staircase leading to the second floor. The team checked the first room on the right, only to find a normal-looking, albeit dusty living room. They moved to the opposite side of the hallway and opened the door to what they assumed would be the dining room and froze as they caught the first glimpse of the horrors within.

The room itself was fairly standard – one large front window with heavy drapes to discourage observers, and a smaller side window where the curtains didn't quite meet, a defect that had allowed the nosy neighbors to get a glimpse of the room. The center of the room was dominated by a large oak dinning table that had been set for eight. The chair at the head of the table was empty, but the other seven were occupied…

"It's the Bates Family reunion," Tony exclaimed, breaking the heavy silence, and winced in anticipation of a head-slap, but even the lead agent had been stunned into silence by the scene in font of them.

In the chairs were the desiccated remains of seven people. Judging by their clothing, it appeared to be a group of four men and three women, all of indeterminate age. Each was coated in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs, but the expected smell of decay was absent. They were better preserved than one would expect had they decayed naturally yet were still not visually identifiable.

"That is just _not_ right," Jimmy declared and blushed when the rest of the group turned to glare at him again. "I…I'll go get some more body bags."

After Jimmy made a hasty exit, Tim finally managed to voice the thought he had had when they first viewed the scene.

"I think we're going to need some extra help with this one, Boss."

Gibbs turned to him and gave him a 'ya think?' look before reaching for his phone to call for backup.

"Why would anyone do this?" Tony asked, almost to himself, and Ducky just shook his head.

"I cannot even begin to fathom a motive. Hopefully we'll learn more during the post-mortem examinations."

"Right…"

Tony and Tim began to document the scene as Ducky started to examine the closest body.

"What can you tell me, Duck?" Gibb asked as he snapped his phone shut.

"I cannot see an immediate cause of death," Ducky replied as he moved to the next body. "There are no visible wounds or signs of violence. Poison is a possibility, of course." He moved on to the third body. "The cause of their state of preservation is not obvious, either. Again, I will need to get them to autopsy and have Abby run tests on the tissue."

"Abby is gonna love this," muttered Tony. "Especially considering the time of year. God, I hate Halloween."

"Still a few days off, Tony."

"I'm starting to hate the entire month of October." Tony caught the look Gibbs was giving him. "Sorry, Boss, back to work."

"DiNozzo, McGee, check the rest of the house, then get back here and help Ducky."

"Yes, Boss," the two men replied in unison as they headed for the door.

"Upstairs or downstairs?" Tim asked when they reached the hallway.

"I'll take upstairs. Since there are fewer rooms down here, you can check the basement, too."

"Thanks a lot," Tim muttered and started checking the other rooms on the lower level. The kitchen and what Tim assumed was a guest bedroom held no further horrors, so he located the door to the basement and opened it. The air that escaped from the cellar smelled musty, but Tim could detect no odor of decay. He flicked the light switch at the top of the stairs and a lone bulb at the bottom flickered to life, casting a weak light in the area around the base of the stairs.

Tim went to retrieve his flashlight and started down, sweeping the area for signs of more remains. He had reached the third step down when an ominous creaking reached his ears. Before he could even register what that could mean, the stair gave way and he lost his balance. He tried to grab the railing but it cracked under his weight and he started to fall unchecked. He barely had time to cry out before his head connected with something solid and the world went black.

"_McGee!"_

Tim groaned as he struggled to open his eyes. He was lying on his back on a packed dirt floor, and as he looked up he could see both Tony and Gibbs in the doorway.

"Are you okay?" Tony called, worry etched across his features.

Tim managed to sit up and groaned again as his head started to pound.

"Been better." Tony started down the steps and Tim's eyes widened as he remembered what had happened. "Be careful! The third step is gone."

"Right. Thanks." Soon both men reached him. "Can you get up?"

"Yeah, I think so." They helped him to his feet. "Next time, Tony, you can check the basement."

Tony chuckled. "Sorry, man." He aimed his flashlight around and froze when it illuminated the other side of the room. "Oh, crap…"

Tim turned to see what had caught the other man's attention and felt his gorge rise when he caught sight of the tableau. "Holy…"

"Nothing holy about _that_," muttered Gibbs.

The remains of at least a two dozen people were stacked like cordwood along the back wall of the basement. In the far corner, loose bones and skulls were piled up in a heap. Tim tried to count the number of skulls but had to stop when he reached twenty.

"Who in the hell could do something like this? And _why_?"

"That's what we're gonna find out, McGee." Tim merely nodded and winced as the movement caused the pain in his head to surge. Gibbs studied him for a moment. "Go see Ducky and get checked out before you do anything else. Can you make it up the stairs?"

"Yeah, Boss. I'm fine. Just a headache." Which was a lie. Tim's whole body had started to respond to the abuse it had just taken in the fall.

Gibbs stared at him, head tilted slightly, and Tim let his gaze drop. "Go see Ducky. On it, Boss." He turned to make his way up the stairs and stopped when he heard a faint whisper in his ear.

"_Stay with us, Tim…"_

Tim paled and he turned to look at his companions but they gave no indication they had heard. "Did you say something, Boss?"

"No. Get going, McGee."

"Right. Sorry." _Guess I hit my head harder than I thought._ He managed to make it up the stairs and back down the hall to the dining room where he found Ducky directing Palmer in the removal of the bodies. The M.E. caught sight of the agent and his eyes widened.

"What happened, Timothy?"

"I fell down the basement stairs. Gibbs wants you to check me over so I can get back to work."

"Of course. Come, sit over here." He pointed to a chair that had not been previously occupied, much to Tim's relief. Tim lowered himself into the seat as Ducky retrieved a pen-light from his bag. He shined it in Tim's eyes and he winced as the harsh light obscured his vision for a few seconds. "Normal reaction. Where did you land?"

"On my back, I think. I'm just a little bruised, though. Nothing's broken."

"Let me be the judge of that." Ducky carefully manipulated his limbs and lifted Tim's shirt to check his back. "Yes, that is going to bruise, I'm afraid." He pressed against Tim's sides. "Nothing broken, it seems. I recommend some ibuprofen for now and a good hot soak in the bath when you get home tonight. That will help."

"Something tells me I won't be going home tonight," Tim replied ruefully as he glanced at the remaining bodies in the room. "This case is going to be a nightmare."

Ducky chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it will. Still, I've dealt with this many bodies before." Tim gasped as he remembered what he had seen earlier. "What is it?"

"There's a lot more, Ducky. Down in the basement: bodies and bones of close to fifty people."

"Oh, my…" He looked up as Jimmy returned, and it was obvious by the younger man's expression that he had heard what Tim had said. "It appears we will be needing even more supplies, Mr. Palmer."

"Guess we'll be earning our overtime," Jimmy commented with a grin, which faded with a glare from his mentor. "Sorry."

"I better get back to work," Tim muttered and rose to leave.

"_Stay with us, Tim…"_

He felt the blood rush from his face as he turned and looked at the other two men. They returned his gaze with a puzzled expression on their faces.

"What's wrong, Timothy?"

"I…nothing. I'm fine." _I'm not hearing things. No, not at all…_

"_McGee!" _

Tim groaned at the sound of Gibbs' voice emanating from the basement. "Coming, Boss!" He hurried back to the basement. "I'm here."

"Ducky clear you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good, then get to work."

The rest of the day passed in a haze as the MCRT, accompanied by agents from two other teams, documented the scene, collected evidence, and helped to remove the remains and transport them back to NCIS. It was almost midnight before Tim was back at his desk to start the search of the captain's records, hoping to determine his current location. He typed in his password and frowned as the computer seemed to freeze. He hit a couple of keys but nothing happened. Silently cursing, he tried another tactic but the computer remained unresponsive.

"McGee."

He looked up into Gibbs' angry eyes and flinched. "Sorry, Boss, there seems to be a problem with the system—"

"Fix it. We need to find this bastard."

"On it, Boss."

Gibbs left, either to motivate another member of the investigative team or for coffee, Tim could never be sure, and he returned the problem at hand. He tried several protocols to get the computer to respond, but nothing worked. Finally he had to shut it down completely and re-start from the beginning.

"No joy in geek-ville?" Tony asked as he passed by Tim's desk and flopped into his own chair.

"No, I don't know what's wrong. Must be a virus, but I don't know how it made it past all the protection we have."

"Better figure it out fast. Gibbs is on a rampage."

"So what else is new?" Tim muttered and froze before he and Tony looked over their shoulders, expecting to have an unwelcome audience to their complaints. Luckily Gibbs was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, well, can't say as I blame him. This guy's one sick puppy. Can you imagine having that many dead people in your house? On purpose?"

Tim just shook his head, wincing as the pain made itself known once again. In addition to the trauma from his fall, Tim's throat had started to ache. He really hoped he hadn't inhaled something down in that basement. That was the last thing he needed.

Finally he was able to get the computer up and running again and started his searches. He spent the next few hours staring at the screen as the data scrolled by, his eyes slowly drifting shut as the night wore on.

"_Stay with us, Tim…"_

He gasped as his eyes snapped open and looked around the room, searching for the source of the voice. The bullpen was mostly empty except for a scattering of agents and Tony, asleep in his chair. No one was close enough to have produced the voice he had heard.

Deciding that he needed a break, Tim headed for the vending machines. He studied his choices but nothing looked appealing, and his sore throat dampened his hunger to the point where he didn't even want to try eating. That, and a strange buzzing sound in his ears which only made the pounding in his head worse discouraged him from trying anything. He sighed and headed for Abby's lab, hoping she could cheer him up a little.

When he reached the basement, he saw that all of the lights were off. He quietly made his way to Abby's office to check and see if she was sleeping within, but the room was unoccupied.

As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of a dark shadow in the corner of the room. A chill scuttled down his spine as he spun back around and stared at the space where he though he had seen the shadow, but the area was empty.

_Get a hold of yourself, McGee…_

Tim took one more look around the room before he decided to go down to autopsy. Maybe Ducky had found something that could help in his search for the owner of the house, Captain Albert Walker…and could shed some light onto the cause of his apparent hallucinations. As he was walking down the hall to the elevator, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see, just for a brief moment, a tall, dark figure with glowing red eyes. It vanished before Tim was completely convinced it had even been there. He stared at the place where he had seen it for several moments before shaking his aching head and continuing on towards Autopsy.

_I really need to get some sleep. At least I hope that's all this is…_

Finally he reached the M.E.'s domain and stopped as the doors slid open to reveal the room beyond. The bodies from the house covered every available table, along with several additional tables that had been borrowed from other areas of the building. Tim stared at the gruesome scene for several moments before advancing into the room.

"Ducky? Are you here?"

Autopsy remained silent and empty, but Tim had the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. He turned to survey the entire room. It was deserted, yet the feeling that he was not alone did not dissipate.

"Ducky? Jimmy? Are you around?" Nothing. After standing in silence and listening for any hint of another presence, Tim turned to leave, only to come face to face with Gibbs.

"What are you doing, McGee?"

"I, uh…nothing, Boss. Just looking for Ducky. I was, uh, hoping he had some more information that could help…you know, with the searches." Gibbs said nothing. "I'll just…go back to my desk and get to work." Gibbs merely nodded and turned to leave, and after Tim gave the room one last look, he followed his boss to elevator.

"_Stay with us, Tim…"_

_I'm not hearing that…I'm not hearing that __**at all**__…_

Tim glanced at Gibbs but the older man gave no indication that he had heard anything. When they elevator arrived they stepped inside and rode up to the bullpen in silence. Tim immediately went to his desk to see if anything useful had come up in the searches, only to find that the computers were frozen again.

"Damn it!"

"Problem, Probie?"

Tim sighed. "I don't know what's going on. Nothing seems to be working, and—"

"Hey, calm down. This case has us all rattled." Tony put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up. Keep trying."

Tim had to chuckle at the unusual approach Tony was taking. "Wasn't planning on giving up, Tony."

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah, it is. Now get back to work, both of you."

"Yes, Boss."

Tim settled back down in his chair and tried to coax the computer into cooperating. After several minutes of fiddling, it started to do what Tim wanted and he continued his searches.

"Any luck on the ID's, DiNozzo?"

"Not yet. Abby's trying to get DNA profiles, but…this may take awhile, Boss."

"We're not going anywhere, DiNozzo."

"Right…" Tony returned to his desk and started working. Soon Tim was lost in the data and time passed. Before he knew it, it was light outside again and Tony was talking about going for coffee, but Tim waved him off when he offered to get some for the both of them. His throat was feeling worse and he still didn't feel like eating or drinking anything that might irritate it further. Even though his head still ached, he didn't think he could even stomach water to wash down some pain medicine.

While Tony was gone (and Gibbs had apparently gone on his own coffee run as well), Tim decided to get up and stretch his legs a little, maybe go see how Abby was doing on the DNA analysis. He headed for the basement, yawning and stretching his back a little as he walked down the stairs, hoping to get a breaking in the case soon.

As Tim stepped through the stairwell door and into the hall outside Abby's lab, the lights started to flicker. He froze, waiting for the problem to resolve itself, but suddenly the fluorescent bulb directly over his head crackled and then went out. It was followed be several others down the length of the hallway until the corridor was shrouded in darkness. The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees as Tim felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up.

No…

The light at the end of the hall flickered to life, revealing a black shrouded figure standing beneath it. The figure raised its head and red, glowing eyes appeared. They blinked once and Tim was almost sure it was smiling.

"_Come with me, Tim…"_

Tim turned and ran, crashing through the stairwell doors and up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.

"_Stay with us, Tim…" _

He yanked the door open and ran to the bullpen, only to find it empty. The room was completely silent, but soon he became aware of whispering all around him. He couldn't make at the words but the sound still terrified him. He ran to his desk for his weapon, but when he opened the drawer the gun was gone. Panic gripped his heart and he unconsciously started to mumble under his breath.

"Please…somebody…anybody…help me!"

"_Stay with us Tim…"_

The lights flickered again and then went out. Tim turned to the window to see that it, too was completely dark; not even the lights of the city were visible beyond the glass. His arms broke out in goose-bumps as the whispering grew louder. Suddenly he saw that dark figure again, advancing towards him, its eyes glowing maliciously. He could feel a constriction in his throat as it advanced towards him, and his stumbled backward as he heard its voice again.

"_Come with me, Tim…"_

_NO!_

His back hit the brick wall and he pressed against it, struggling to get as far away from the advancing menace as he could.

"_Stay with us, Tim… Please."_

_I'll…stay._

Tim gasped as a harsh white light hit his eyes and then gagged when the obstruction in his throat became apparent. A loud, frantic beeping reached his ears as he struggled to breathe and suddenly a familiar voice spoke in his ear.

"Easy, Tim, calm down. It's OK. It's OK…"

Tim blinked and his vision cleared enough for him to see Tony, looking a bit worse for wear, leaning over him. He tried to ask his partner what was happening, but whatever was in his throat prevented it. Soon a new, unfamiliar face appeared in his line of vision.

"Agent McGee, try to stay calm. You have a tube in your throat helping you breathe. Don't try to fight it."

Tim tried to follow those instructions, but the pain was almost unbearable at air was forced into his lungs and he could feel the tears running down his face.

"We're going to remove the tube now." The air stopped moving into his lungs. "Take as deep of a breath as you can and cough." He complied and experienced the very unpleasant sensation of the tube being pulled from his throat. He wheezed a few times before something was put across the base of his nose and it became a little easier to breathe. He concentrated on pulling in as much air as he could before his mind cleared enough to register more pain in his head and he groaned weakly.

He felt something cold slip into his mouth and he swallowed, thankful for the cooling of his abused throat. A few more cold things were administered to him and finally his throat was wet enough to allow words to pass.

"What…happened?" He managed to focus on the stranger…_doctor_ leaning over him enough to hear the reply.

"You fell and sustained a skull fracture, among other injuries. Do you remember?"

"I think…maybe?" He remembered the fall, but the rest…

The doctor asked a few more questions and measured Tim's responses. Seemingly satisfied, the doctor turned to speak to someone near Tim's bed.

"We'll set him up with some pain relief and he should go back to sleep soon. Rest is the best thing for him right now."

"You got it, doc."

"Tony?"

His partner leaned into his line of vision. "You're gonna be OK, Tim. You know you're not allowed to be anything but OK, right?"

"OK…"

Tim studied his partner's face and took in the dark circles under Tony's eyes and the scruffiness of his face.

"You…OK?"

A wet laugh escaped Tony's mouth. "Yeah, Buddy, I'm fine."

"What…happened?"

"We were at a crime scene, you went down to the basement and…the stairs went out on you. By the time Gibbs and I found you…" Tony shook his head and his voice lowered to a near whisper. "Don't ever do that to me again, Probie. I thought… Damn it, we already lost one member of this team. I couldn't… I couldn't handle it if we lost another."

"Sorry…"

"Not your fault, Tim. I'm the one who told you to search the basement, and…" Tony was interrupted by the arrival of a nurse who hooked Tim up to a morphine pump. As soon as she administered the first dose, Tim felt a relief from the pain…and exhaustion set in. He barely managed to keep his eyes open as he reassured his partner.

"Not…your fault. You…didn't know." He managed a smile. "Glad…it was all…a dream."

"What was a dream, Tim?"

Tim didn't answer as restful sleep finally claimed him. Tony leaned back in his chair and sighed as he rubbed a hand over his eyes. He sent a silent thank you to whoever might be listening that his pleas to his partner had been heeded, that Tim had not left them for good.

Tony closed his eyes and tried to catch a bit of sleep, something that had been difficult to find while his partner hovered near the edge of oblivion. Soon he was snoring softly, completely unaware of the silent observer in the corner of the room…a dark shrouded figure with red glowing eyes that was carefully studying the man lying on the bed. After several moments, those red eyes slowly closed.

And the figure vanished.

The End

* * *

Not sure if that was bone chilling enough, but I tried. I'd love to know what you think.


End file.
